This is where I apologize for not posting in so long. Sorry, my other Doctor Who story and non-fanfiction stories were taking up a lot of time. School's going to be starting soon, so I don't know how regularly I'll be posting (not that I've been posting that regularly this summer either). Thanks for reading and I appreciate all of the support I've been getting. Thanks everyone. As always, reviews or pm's or whatever are appreciated. Letting me know how I'm doing is the only way I'll get better. Also, this isn't a whouffle story. Just thought I'd point that out, in case it comes off like that. Enjoy!
"Please, Doctor! Please, Doctor!" Clara pleaded. All other words had vanished from her vocabulary and fear was quickly becoming her only thought and feeling. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die… or worse. She thought as her entire body was wracked by terrified tremors. "Please stop!"
The Doctor stared down at her; a smile tinged the edges of his lips. He'd never seen her this scared before. Even through all of their adventures she had never been this terrified. And the fear smelled delicious. It smelled sweet and sugary, which was good enough. But it also smelled of life. The fear to preserve it was so strong; it was intoxicating.
"Please stop squirming, Clara. This will be so much easier if you stay still." He said in a tight, controlled voice, but underneath the control were cracks of… humanity, of real emotion, of the real Doctor. Even so, he pulled Clara close to him, so that their chests touched.
She could hear the soft beating of his two hearts. The sound was now no more than a soft plink, like the sound of a drop of water. They beat slowly and every time there was silence Clara was sure that she'd never hear the odd double beat again. But the beats continued.
He's still in there. The thought breaking through the fear. "Doctor," She said, her voice still shaky as she mustered her courage. ", you. Don't. Want. To. Kill. Me." She punctuated each word, saying them slowly and deliberately.
His face was impassive, looking like he hadn't even heard her. But in truth he had and the time lord part of him was grabbing onto those words like they were his lifeline, which they were. The urge to kill Clara right now was so great. The urge to just wring her neck and to get her words out of his head, but he resisted.
He wanted to say something to her, to tell her that everything was going to be okay (even though he wasn't sure if it would be), but if he opened his mouth he wasn't sure what he would do. Would he kindly talk to her as her friend or would his teeth find a way onto her neck?
He hated scaring her. He hated not being sure whether he was going to kill her if he opened his mouth. And most of all he hated how delicious she smelled.
Clara noticed the clear wetness of tears hanging at the edge of his eyes. The Doctor was standing in front of her now, he might not be completely there, but at least he'd surfaced.
Clara conjured up all of her bravery, knowing that the Doctor was not simply going to be able to just save himself. "Doctor, I need you to let go of me. I have something that I think can help you, but you need to let me go."
He did nothing, his old, weary eyes just stared at her. His arm twitched slightly, but he didn't let her go. "Doctor, I'm not going to leave you. I want to help you, but I can only do that if you let me go."
The Doctor gritted his teeth and, his arms shaking, released her. Clara felt an overwhelming sense of relief, but there was no time for that now. The water bottle was still in her hands. Carefully, she unscrewed the top.
"Doctor, open your mouth." She said nervously.
His eyes went wide with terror. He shook his head no.
He still didn't know what he'd do. He was too afraid that he'd kill her. Not to mention, that there was a tingling feeling in the back of his head now. He didn't know what it was, but it felt strong, cold and… savage.
He opened his mouth and tried as hard as possible not to breathe in her intoxicating smell. If he didn't do this now then he was sure he'd never get the chance. Quickly, Clara put the bottle to his lips and poured the water down his throat.
It was cold and tasted like it had been sitting at the bottom of a well for quite some time. Half the bottle was down, but then suddenly in one swift motion the Doctor's arm came up and swiped the bottle out of Clara's hand, sending it careening into the wall. The remaining water splashed onto the ground.
"Half the bottle's enough, right?" Clara asked anxiously.
Amber shook herself out of her paralysis. She nodded slowly. "I think."
"Is it or isn't it?" Clara snapped.
"I… I'm not sure. It's not an exact science. I don't know!" Amber stammered.
The Doctor stood completely still in front of them. He was waiting, waiting for something to happen, waiting to feel like himself again, to rid himself of the wild animal that had taken over him. But nothing happened.
"Doctor, how do you feel?" Clara asked.
His eyes flickered up to her. They were blood red.
"It didn't work, Clara!" He yelled angrily. Suddenly, he was on her again clutching her arms. She tried to squirm away, but his grip was like iron. "It didn't work! You said you could help me, Clara!"
"I'm sorry!" Clara cried. He was more terrifying than before like this. He seemed to be the Doctor, but unhinged like something had snapped in his head. "I thought it would work!"
Her eyes drifted to Amber, who was staring right at her. Amber's face was calm and Clara suddenly understood what she was about to do. No, Clara mouthed, but Amber just gave her a weak smile.
"It was my idea. I'm the one who told Clara how to save you." Amber said calmly.
The Doctor spun around, releasing Clara in the process. He began taking angry, heavy steps towards Amber. His arms were shaking. He bared his teeth at her and said. "It's your fault!"
He'd gained speed and was suddenly on top of Amber. He picked her up by her shoulders and held her against a wall. "I should stake you. I should take you back to the pack and have them burn you. I should pull all of your limbs from you sockets and burn them individually. I should…"
"Doctor, listen to yourself!" Clara cried. This was her only hope now, to appeal to his humanity and hope that somehow he'd turn back. Deep down, though, she knew that this was impossible. "Just listen to what you're saying!"
His grip loosened and Amber fell to the ground, panting. He blinked, like he was waking up. He bent down to where she'd fallen and said gently. "I'm sorry."
Amber nodded as if she accepted his apology, but her eyes were still wide with fear and her voice seemed to be caught in her throat. Even when the Doctor walked, his steps deliberate and controlled, back to Clara she remained pressed against the wall in a kind of shock.
"What do we do now?" Clara asked, not really expecting anyone to have an answer.
The Doctor thought for a moment. A small smile spread across Clara's face when she saw him thinking; he looked more like the Doctor like this. Suddenly, he turned to her excitedly. "Clara! I've got it! Don't know why I didn't think of it before, well it was probably the vampirism, but still…" His eyes were bright and excited. He was smiling and nodding furiously, obviously pleased with himself.
"Well, what is it Doctor?" Clara urged.
"It's so simple. All we need to…" Suddenly, as if he'd just been punched in the chest, he grabbed his chest in pain. The next thing Clara knew he was on his knees gasping for breath.
"Doctor!" She cried and rushed to his aide. She could only hope that it was still the Doctor that she was rushing to help.
He put his arm around her shoulder to steady himself and looked into her eyes, his grim and bloodshot. "Clara," He said. ", one of my hearts just stopped."